I have been in love once. The 13th of next month will mark 12 years since I have seen him. I have cared about people, but I can honestly say that telling them that I loved them was a falsehood. I haven’t been in love since I was with him.
We had just gotten back from Christmas vacation spent in Queens, NY. Shout-out to T-Bone’s Diner and Lillian’s Pizzeria. I’ll never forget January 18th, 2006. I was sitting in the patient room of Planned Parenthood waiting for the nurse to come back with the result of the mandatory pregnancy test since I missed one of my birth control shots. She hadn’t finished shutting the door behind her as she said to me, “Sarah, you’re pregnant.”
Never in my life have I felt my heart crush in my chest the way it did when she said those words to me. Wait — I am wrong — I had before. When my babysitter’s father delivered the news to my mother that his daughter had died. Michelle was one of my favorite people. And at my 8 years of age, I learned of loss and grief for the first time.
I cannot recall why it felt so horrific to receive news some people would cherish to hear.
“I don’t kid about these things,” she replied with annoyance seeping through her tone.
I left Planned Parenthood with pamphlets on abortion and pregnancy care clutched in my hands. I called my mother in tears and got into my car to go tell him the news.
November 13th, 2006, was the last time I saw him. I remember nothing about that day with him other than the date itself. He checked out of the relationship before I did and like the failed pregnancy, we failed. He was my first love, and so far, my only.
Featured Photo: “Self Image” Copyright © 2018. All rights reserved.
Camera: Pixel 2.